Cargo
by Designation
Summary: Alec AND White centric! A group of hunters are in Seattle looking to capture transgenics, and White decides they may be helpful in eliminating the transgenic threat.
1. What They Seem

Cargo  
  
By  
  
Kel  
  
Chapter 1: What They Seem  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with it  
or the stupidity to cancel it. However, I do own any original characters that may appear in this  
fic.  
  
Summary: Despite the escape of the Manticore transgenics, foreign organizations are still willing  
to pay a large sum of cash for a live and breathing transgenic. A group of hunters are in Seattle  
looking to capture some, and White decides they may be helpful in eliminating the transgenic  
threat.  
  
Timeline: Starts during Love Among the Runes. (The Biggs scene goes WAY differently.)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
One minute, he had been buying a cup of coffee, minding his own business. The next, they were  
after him.  
  
The man at the newspaper stand. The two guys talking across the street. The four guys in the  
Taurus. None of them had been what they had appeared to be, not to the general public, anyway.   
As soon as Biggs had looked at them he had known. He could see it in their eyes. They had no  
interest in the news or politics, they had no definite destination in mind. Only he concerned them.   
They were here for him; they knew. They knew what he was, who he was.  
  
Surrounded by many such people, Biggs did the only thing he could do; get the hell out of there  
as fast as possible. Before they had even realized they had been made, he was running in the other  
direction; the one place they couldn't go, at least not fast enough to catch up to him. That is, if  
they were human. Biggs went up, to the top of the nearest building. He dashed into the alleyway  
and leapt halfway up the fire escape. He grabbed hold, and started climbing hand over hand up  
the outside, his feet dangling underneath him.  
  
Upon reaching the roof, Biggs tore across the building and jumped to the adjacent one. Gunfire  
tore through the air, and Biggs felt a sharp pain in his right leg. He hit the next roof, tucking and  
rolling to come back up on his feet, and looked down quickly to see a small dart protruding from  
his leg. He tore it out and dropped it to the ground.  
  
Running again, Biggs wavered only slightly from the drug. His transgenic immune system fought  
off the effects as best they could, but he was still a little woozy. As he hit the next roof, he  
stumbled, and came to the conclusion that jumping over the streets wasn't exactly a good idea  
when he was dizzy. He climbed down a pipe on the side of a building to the ground.  
  
"There he is!" a random voice yelled as his sneakers hit the pavement.  
  
Biggs eyes widened with fear, and he began to run again.  
  
His arms and legs felt like lead, and he was slowing down, the exertion catching up to him much  
quicker than it should have, because of whatever had been in that dart.  
  
There was a sudden sideways rush of air on Biggs' face, and the world spun. His momentum  
smacked him into *something*, though what it was, he couldn't be sure. Wall, door, pavement. .  
. . All he knew was that it hurt. He wasn't certain, but the impact may have dislocated his  
shoulder. Perhaps he had hit his head as well, because he was still disoriented, and still had no  
idea what was going on around him.  
  
Biggs' brain registered the sound of footsteps pounding by, and then a voice. "Hey? Can you  
hear me?"  
  
"Huh?" Biggs' muddled brain was able to almost form a question.  
  
"I said are you alright?"  
  
The world snapped back into full colour and surround sound, and Biggs blinked hard, shaking the  
cobwebs from his brain. He was slumped against a brick wall, his head pounding furiously, and  
his right shoulder throbbing, hanging much lower than it should have been. A man stood before  
him, a hand on his good shoulder, holding him steady. A man. . . . Biggs blinked again and shook  
his head, gasping at the pain the action caused. He knew this man. . . .  
  
"Biggs?" the voice was familiar to him, and sounded concerned.  
  
A light bulb went off in Biggs' brain. Alec. This was Alec.  
  
"I- I'm okay, I think. . ."  
  
Alec breathed a deep sigh of relief. "You had me scared for a minute there, buddy. What the hell  
happened?" Alec took Biggs by the arm and led him slowly to the opposite end of the alley he  
had pulled him into, toward his motorcycle.  
  
"Not sure. . ." Biggs responded. "One minute I . . ." he trailed off. "Unhhh . . ." he groaned. "I  
don't feel so good . . ."  
  
"I thought you said you were okay?" Alec held his arm more tightly as they approached the bike.   
"Nevermind, at least you're in one piece. Let's get you to Terminal City, we'll have you checked  
out there." The two of them carefully boarded the motorcycle, and Alec took off at a normal,  
steady pace, trying to look inconspicuous while jolting the bike as little as possible.  
  
Once there, TC's unofficial medical crew determined that Biggs was suffering from the after  
affects of a tranquilizer that wasn't quite strong enough to take him down, and Biggs just slept it  
off.  
********  
"You let it get away? You idiots!" Jason Blacksmith roared. Mark Stromboli could practically  
see the steam pouring out of his ears. Blacksmith was livid. They had finally located a transgenic  
on the thermal imaging scanners, and the damn thing had gotten away. Just took off and ran, and  
they couldn't stop it. Needless to say, the boss was mad.  
  
"There was one of him, and dozens of you, and he just fuckin' ran out of here!" Blacksmith  
ranted. "You had one job, and that was to tranquilize the beast! He was flying right over your  
heads and you couldn't even do that!" His face was beet red.  
  
Mark spoke up timidly. "Sir, I thought I had hit him, I-"  
  
"You OBVIOUSLY didn't! If you had, the beast would be in a goddamn cage already! Why the  
hell are you here? You couldn't even hit the broad side of a barn with a machine gun!"  
  
"Actually," a sudden voice interrupted calmly, stepping from some unknown alcove into which he  
must've been pressed, "he did hit the 'beast.' Saw him do it with my own eyes."  
  
Fuming, Blacksmith turned to face the new arrival. Short dark hair, dark brown eyes, and a  
sinister air about him, he stood several inches taller than Blacksmith. "Who the hell are you?"  
Blacksmith demanded.  
  
The man ignored the question. "What kind of tranquilizers are you using?"  
  
"None of your damn-"  
  
"Powerful enough to take down a 300 pound giant in under a minute," Mark interrupted his boss.  
  
"300 pound giant *human*? Not good enough," the man informed them. "One hit probably just  
made it dizzy. You need something strong enough to take down a full grown male elephant in  
peak condition, in under ten seconds. Transgenic bastards got that souped up immune system."  
  
Mark nodded slightly. "I see what you're saying, but we're fresh out of elephant tranqs."  
  
Blacksmith watched the exchange from the sidelines, steam practically pouring out of his ears.  
  
"And you need to corner it, or it's gonna get away every time." The man gestured to the wide  
open area in which they had attempted to surround the transgenic.  
  
"Not that easy to lure one into a dark corner," Mark observed.  
  
"Stromboli!" Blacksmith chastised him. "Shut your mouth, you slimey-"  
  
"I could help," the man offered offhandedly.  
  
Blacksmith's head snapped back in the man's direction. "What was that?"  
  
"I have a lot of experience in these sort of situations," he explained.  
  
Blacksmith brightened up slightly at the offer. "What's your name, fella?"  
  
"Ames. Ames White."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	2. Ready, Set

Cargo  
  
By  
  
Kel  
  
Chapter 2: Ready, Set . . .  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with it  
or the stupidity to cancel it. However, I do own any original characters that may appear in this  
fic.  
  
Summary: Despite the escape of the Manticore transgenics, foreign organizations are still willing  
to pay a large sum of cash for a live and breathing transgenic. A group of hunters are in Seattle  
looking to capture some, and White decides they may be helpful in eliminating the transgenic  
threat.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
1 Week Later  
  
He should've known. The second he woke up that morning, something in his brain should've  
started screaming, 'Hey, you know that thing that's gonna happen today? No? Well it's a trap.'  
  
That part of Alec's brain was currently too busy saying, 'Ow,' to throw in any 'I told you so's'.   
Alec staggered backwards as a steely fist slammed into his face. He blurred to the right to avoid  
the next hit, yanking on his attackers arm and flipping him to the floor.  
  
White moved with the momentum and rolled to his feet. Alec's boot connected with the back of  
his skull, knocking him forwards again. White held himself up in a push-up position, and swung  
his legs around to knock Alec's out from under him.  
  
Both were on their feet almost immediately.  
********  
On the other side of the warehouse walls, Jason Blacksmith and his team surrounded the building.   
Blacksmith held a thermal imaging scanner in his left hand and scanned the building. There was  
definitely one of them in there, he noted, but the readings were all over the place. Or rather, the  
transgenic was all over the place.  
  
Blacksmith had to constantly keep the scanner in motion to keep it in his sights and it was  
jumping all over the screen when he did. There was no way to tell which of the two heat  
signatures in the building was colder.  
  
This disturbed Blacksmith deeply.  
********  
White lunged for Alec, who jumped right over his head. Alec threw his leg out backwards and  
kicked White in the back. Or at least he tried. White ducked under the kick and reached up to  
grab Alec's leg. He held him in there and came up to punch him in the face. White pushed Alec's  
leg, sending him sprawling onto the floor.  
  
Alec rolled almost directly at White, as the familiar came at him. He leapt to his feet behind him.   
As White spun to defend himself, Alec delivered a punch that could've snapped the neck of an  
ordinary. White grabbed Alec's arm as he pulled away and spun around, wrenching the arm  
painfully behind Alec's back.  
  
Alec head butted him, with little to no effect. White tightened his hold, just short of snapping  
Alec's elbow. Alec flipped backwards over White's head and, anticipating the move, White  
stepped forward, holding his grip on Alec's arm. He threw Alec's balance right off, and Alec  
crashed to the floor.  
  
In little more than the blink of an eye, White was on top of Alec, punching him relentlessly in the  
face.  
  
He was bringing his fist down again, when the warehouse doors slammed open.  
********  
Well, it was no wonder that Blacksmith couldn't distinguish the two heat signatures. Judging  
from the fact that White had taken the beast down all by himself and with zero weapons, they  
were both transgenics.  
  
White was still pinning the other beast when Blacksmith burst in. "Lying son of a bitch!"  
Blacksmith cursed. He raised his gun. "Shoot 'em both," he ordered his men. He fired.  
  
White stood to run, to dodge the shots, but their aim was dead on. He was hit several times in the  
chest and torso. Alec tried to scramble to his feet, but piercing pains in his back alerted him to the  
fact that he was hit as well. Several more shots rang out before both of them went down for the  
count.  
  
Blacksmith signaled for a cease fire and approached the two bodies, lying bloodied on the floor.  
  
He nudged White none too gently with the toe of his boot. White remained still. "Bastard,"  
Blacksmith muttered. "Load 'em up!"  
********  
Byron got to command as fast as he could, dragging Gizmo along beside him. "Mole!" he called  
out, seeing the desert model transhuman on the other side of the room. Mole was at his side in an  
instant, with Biggs in tow. Mole took in the blood that had soaked through Gizmo's black shirt  
and removed him from Byron's weary arms. "It was a trap," Byron reported breathlessly.  
  
"Where's Alec?" Biggs demanded, helping the bone tired X5 to a chair.  
  
"He told me to get Gizmo out of there as fast as I could and not to worry about him," he said,  
worry obvious in his voice.  
  
"Shit," Biggs hissed. "Who?"  
  
"White."  
  
"Great," Biggs commented sarcastically. "Where?"  
  
"Abandoned warehouse on the docks. Street number 57."  
  
Biggs nodded. He went to over to Mole. "Find Max, tell her what's going on. I'm getting a  
team together. If he's not back in an hour and a half, I'm going in."  
  
Mole agreed and the two of them went their separate ways, while a group of X6's tended to  
Gizmo and Byron.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thanks to Mel (Enigma) for her great beta work! 


	3. Go

Cargo  
  
by  
  
Kel  
  
Chapter 3: Go  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with  
it or the stupidity to cancel it. However, I do own any original characters that may appear in this  
fic.  
  
Summary: Despite the escape of the Manticore transgenics, foreign organizations are still willing  
to pay a large sum of cash for a live and breathing transgenic. A group of hunters are in Seattle  
looking to capture some, and White decides they may be helpful in eliminating the transgenic  
threat.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Day 1  
  
The world was covered in a haze of fog. Voices, angry voices, timid voices, drifted in and out of  
the misty void like intangible spirits. Drifting, floating, always floating.  
  
Well that sure was goddamn *whimsical*. What the hell?  
  
-Let's try this again.-  
  
His eyes were closed, so obviously he couldn't see a damn thing. His ears weren't working right.   
He couldn't hear clearly and it was goddamned annoying. It sounded as if someone was messing  
with his volume control; the constant rising and falling of sound around him was producing a  
queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished they would quit it. And he sure as hell wasn't  
floating. He felt like his head was filled with concrete, and he was positive that if he felt pain,  
he'd have a migraine to end all migraines.  
  
He strained to hear what was going on around him as his head cleared. The roaring of crashing  
waves in the distance. He swayed rhythmically back and forth. No, he was chained in place, cold  
steel encircling his wrists and ankles. The whole room swayed. Huh. That was odd. Cool air  
rested against his bare chest. As he swayed and shifted in his chains, he felt the pull of dried  
blood on his skin in a few places.  
  
He could hear water dripping, and nothing else, other than the sound of soft breathing. His own  
and someone else's.  
  
There was only one other person in the room at the moment. About fifteen feet in front of him;  
unconscious, if the soft, even breathing was any indication.  
  
White risked opening his eyes, and giving away the fact that he was awake.  
  
It was dark, but it only took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. Dirty steel walls,  
rickety metal stairs. Everything wet and dripping, junk littered all over the place. None of the  
junk was anywhere he, or the room's other occupant, could reach.  
  
He was in the cargo hold of the Greenland, a clunky old freighter operated by Martin Kean, who  
was on Jason Blacksmith's payroll.  
  
And approximately fifteen feet away from Ames White, X5-494 slumped bonelessly in his chains  
on the opposite wall.  
  
"Oh joy," White muttered.  
********  
White may not have been feeling any pain, but when Alec woke up, he found himself wishing that  
whoever it was who had him chained to a wall would just knock him back out. He was covered  
in cuts, bumps and bruises, and his left eye was almost swollen shut. His head throbbed with  
waves of agony, forcing Alec to bite back a groan.  
  
"Well, 494!" a cheery voice greeted him, impossibly loud. "It's so nice to see you awake!"  
  
"Shut up," Alec mumbled.  
  
If possible, the voice became louder. "What was that, 494? I didn't quite hear you."  
  
Alec focused on the source of the voice. Of course. Good 'ole Ames White. "Oh joy," Alec  
muttered.  
  
The sinister grin on White's face darkened for a moment. He didn't like having something in  
common with transgenic scum, even if it was just a phrase.  
  
"What?" Alec scowled.  
  
"Nothing, filth," White snapped.  
  
"You wound me," Alec grumbled. For once, his heart just wasn't in the argument. Alec looked  
up at the chains attached to his wrist and flexed his arm, testing the strength of the metal.  
  
"You can't break it," White tossed offhandedly.  
  
"You've tried?"  
  
"Duh." White decided to leave out the fact that he had tested the restraints even before they had  
been installed.  
  
"Well you don't have to act so 'holier than thou' over it," Alec commented.  
  
"This is going to be such a fun trip," White grumbled.  
  
"So you know where we're going, huh?" Alec asked.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
Alec looked at White for a moment. White appeared to not be interested in conversation, and  
was doing his best to ignore Alec. "Well?" Alec prompted.  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"Where are they taking us on this loverly first class cruise?"  
  
White rolled his eyes skyward and sighed. This promised to be a *really* long, long, *long* trip.   
"North fucking Korea."  
  
"Oh *shit*," Alec said. "This is going to be a *really* long trip."  
  
White grimaced.  
********  
"What do you mean 'he wasn't there'?" Max just about yelled.  
  
"If you understood English, you would know that he meant 'he wasn't there,'" Mole grumbled.  
  
Max bristled, but restrained from hitting him. "What did you find?"  
  
"There was definitely a fight in that warehouse. Couple drops of blood, stuff banged up, and  
this," Biggs reported, producing a dart from his pocket. "Smells strong. I don't think it was the  
same kind I got hit with. Probably could've taken him down given the time."  
  
"Hmm. That's not good," Mole observed.  
  
"Really?" Max hissed. "How d'ya figure that?"  
  
"Well, it wasn't that hard, in fact, if you knew any math, you could probably figure it out too,"  
Mole supplied helpfully. "You see, two plus two is-"  
  
"Shut up!" Max snapped.  
  
"If you insist, ma'am."  
  
"Excuse me? Children?" Biggs interrupted. "Can we get back on topic?" He wiggled the dart in  
the air. Max turned her ice glare in his direction. "Alec? White? Tranquilizer? Any of these ring  
a bell?" Biggs reminded.  
  
"Try an alarm," Dix jumped in. "I'll check around for military convoys," he offered, jumping into  
the usual routine for transgenics in distress. 


	4. Human, Beast, or Idiot?

Cargo  
  
By  
  
Kel  
  
Chapter 4: Human, Beast, or Idiot?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with  
it or the stupidity to cancel it. However, I do own any original characters that may appear in this  
fic.  
  
Betaing by the wondrous Mel!!!!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Day 2  
  
"What's wrong with them?" Pete asked, his curious eyes fastened on the two transgenics. The  
two of them stood in chains on either side of the cargo hold, staring at each other with obvious  
hatred in their eyes. Neither spoke, and neither moved.  
  
"Well, I figure this one over here is mad at that one for betraying him and leading us to them,"  
David reasoned, pointing at each of them in turn. "They were probably close or something."   
David liked to make up stories, to speculate on reasons why the world turned 'round and why  
people acted the way they did. "See, I figure they trained together, went on a lot of missions,  
trusted each other and such. Then one day, this guy," he pointed to White, "got tired of it all, and  
the two of 'em got into this big fight. Then-"  
  
"But they're not human, Dave. They're beasts," Pete protested. "You make 'em sound like they  
have feelings and stuff."  
  
David shrugged. He looked back out across the room to the two transgenics. He and Pete were  
on guard, watching the trannies and making sure they didn't try to escape. "Maybe you're right,  
but what's the fun of a story about beasts? It's easier to pretend they have emotions."  
  
"But if you're pretending they have emotions, then why don't you care that we've locked them  
up?" Pete lowered his voice to a whisper. They'd get into a whole lot of trouble if Martin Kean  
overheard them talking this way, like what they were doing was wrong.  
  
Dave kept his voice low as well. "I'm just pretending, remember?"  
  
Dave jumped when one of the transgenics snapped his head towards them. "Because you're too  
dumb to know the truth," he said, then went back to glaring at White.  
  
"And you're not just wrong about that," White pitched in. "I was never friends with that filth."   
His voice was thick with disgust.  
  
"Don't worry, Ames. You never will be, either. I have standards, you know."  
  
"You'd much rather wallow in the muck of your own kind, wouldn't you?"  
  
"See?" Pete grinned. "I told you White was an X4 or something. Pay up!" He held out his hand  
to relieve Dave of his cash. He payed no attention to the groan coming from White.  
  
"So what's the deal with these guys?" Alec asked, lowering his voice so the men across the room  
would no longer be able to eavesdrop.  
  
"Huh?" White said, too annoyed to come up with a more verbal response, or to attempt to ignore  
the transgenic chatterbox.  
  
"Well, before they tranqued us, I heard them saying things like, 'he's one of them?' 'what the  
hell' and 'that lying son of a bitch,' so I'm guessing you know them." Alec clarified.  
  
White huffed angrily. "Idiots mis-"  
  
"Mistook you for one of us?" Alec knew there was nothing that would bug White more than to  
be believed to be a transgenic. So as much as it disgusted Alec himself, he mentioned it.  
  
White was silent, fuming with anger.  
  
Alec took this as an agreement. "Seems that way," he concluded.  
  
"Shut up, filth," White grumbled.  
  
Alec rolled his eyes. "*Ooh*," he said, wincing in mock pain. "*Ouch*." He adopted a game  
show host like voice. "What'll he come up with next?" He switched to a high pitched, mousy,  
feminine voice, "'Shut up!' 'This is all your fault!' 'I'm so gonna kick your ass!'" He returned to  
his normal tones. "Seriously, you've been chasing after Max for too long."  
  
"Should've blown your head off when I had the chance," White groaned.  
  
Alec donned a wide, bright grin. "Yup! And now you're stuck with me!"  
  
"Ugh," White shuddered.  
  
"Well," Alec moved on, cheerily ignoring White's disgust (or taking pleasure from it), "since we  
*do* seem to be stuck in this together-"  
  
"They must've thrown some hallucinogens in with your tranquilizers," White cut him off,  
gesturing to the two men, who seemed to be straining to hear what they were talking about. But  
were unsuccessful and wouldn't move any closer. "There is no 'we,' there is no 'together.'   
You're trapped, and I happen to be trapped too. End of story."  
  
"Hmph," Alec scoffed. If White chose to take his words that way. . . . Alec never would have  
allowed the thought of *togetherness* into his mind. "Well then, *you* and *I* need to  
co-operate to get out of here. Where we both *happen* to be."  
  
White looked Alec over. Co-operate with that filth? "Yeah. Right."  
  
Alec rolled his eyes again. "Well, if you'd prefer to stay here by yourself while I get the hell out  
of here, then be my guest." Alec paused for a moment, waiting for White's reaction. There was  
none. "God you're stubborn!" Alec stopped again, waiting once more but still White remained  
silent. Alec rolled his eyes and pressed on. "So what's the deal with these guys?"  
  
"You two wanna talk a little louder?" Pete called out to them. Dave smacked him upside the  
head. It was obvious which of the two was the bigger idiot.  
  
"No," Alec responded simply.  
  
"Oh . . . well . . . thanks anyway."  
  
"Shut up!" all three other men ordered the idiot.  
  
"Who the hell put him on guard duty?" Alec asked David.  
  
"Not me," Dave muttered.  
  
"Remotely sane, are ya?" Alec guessed.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"I beg to differ," White muttered. Turning his head away, so as not to have to set eyes on the  
'lower beings.'  
  
Alec rolled his eyes for the millionth time that day. "Don't be such a crabby-face, Amy Green!"  
  
David put a hand over his mouth to unsuccessfully hold back his laughter. Pete didn't have to.   
He didn't get it. "What's so funny? Who's Amy Green?" David, still laughing, reached out one  
hand and smacked him in the back of the head.  
********  
Max met them just outside the door to headquarters. "Any luck?" she asked in place of a  
'welcome back' for the team that had gone out searching for Alec.  
  
"No. No, not at all," Biggs responded, frustration dominating his entire person. He leaned  
against the brick wall, and ran a hand through his black hair.  
  
"Shit," Max hissed. Two days. Alec had been gone for two days, and not a single person in  
Terminal City knew how to find him. For two days they had searched for some sign, any sign,  
and there were none. Max liked to be in control, to know what was going on, and it was  
frustrating, to say the least to have one of her closest friends in terrible danger and to not be able  
to do a thing about it.  
  
Her and Biggs exchanged stares of mental exhaustion and worry. Max jumped as Biggs lashed  
out suddenly and punched the wall next to him. If she felt worried about Alec, then Biggs, who  
had known him for his whole life, must've felt ten times worse. He rested his forehead on the  
cool bricks.  
  
"Hey," Max comforted, reaching out her hand and placing it reassuringly on his shoulder. "We'll  
find him, okay?"  
  
Biggs chuckled bitterly. "Not even ten minutes," he muttered. "I was in trouble for not even ten  
minutes, and he found me and got me out. White's had him for *two days* and I don't even have  
a fucking clue where he is!" Biggs fought to keep his voice down. If the younger transgenics  
heard him speaking with such self doubt and frustration, they would become even more worried,  
and would have more difficulty concentrating on keeping the ordinaries off their backs. It was  
bad enough having Alec missing as it was, without killing any hope of finding him. "Dammit,"  
Biggs muttered. "We don't even know if he's still *alive*."  
  
"He's alive," Max said, no hint of doubt in her voice. He had to be alive. "Come on, you need to  
get some rest." And he did. Biggs looked beyond bone weary. Max lead him to her office, and  
he sank down onto her couch.  
  
He put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.  
  
"We'll find him," Max assured him again. "Now, go to sleep, I'll let you know if there's any  
news."  
  
Biggs lay down, and Max gently pulled a light blanket over him. It took him awhile, but he  
eventually fell into a troubled sleep.  
********  
"How's he doing?" Joshua asked Max as she emerged from her office, shutting the door quietly  
behind her.  
  
"Worried as hell, just like the rest of us," she informed him.  
  
"He didn't find anything?"  
  
Max shook her head.  
  
"Little Fella worried as hell too," Joshua observed.  
  
"Yeah," Max sighed. "I keep telling Biggs we'll find him, but I . . ." She trailed off.  
  
"We will find him," Joshua told her. She may be the one telling others that, but she obviously  
needed that assurance herself. As long as they kept telling each other they'd find Alec, Joshua  
was confident they would. "It's not that easy to get rid of Medium Fella," Joshua reminded Max.  
  
She couldn't help but smile. It was true, as much as she may have wanted to at times, she just  
couldn't seem to get rid of Alec. She may not have been before, but she was glad for that now.   
And she wasn't the only one. Just about everybody in Terminal City was scared of losing Alec.   
Once upon a time, Max would have told them they were all nuts and would have been content to  
just let him rot, wherever he was. Hell, if it weren't for Original Cindy, Max would have left him  
in jail to do just that when he had been arrested. Max tried to tell herself that she eventually  
would have gone in for him anyway. That she would've gotten an inkling of common sense, or  
even trusted him, but she honestly doubted she would have. But the point was, that even thinking  
of that made her feel guilty all over again. She did trust him, now that she had stopped and  
realized how different he truly was from Ben.  
  
Ben was her brother, and she had loved him. He had always comforted her, been there for her  
until the escape. She had trusted him with her life and never doubted that he was deserving of  
that trust. But something had changed in Ben, and he had stopped being the lovable, comforting,  
older brother. He had stopped being someone she could trust.  
  
Alec, on the other hand, had hardly even tried to be that trustworthy person. He knew that she  
wouldn't trust him, and accepted it, played along even. He didn't try to earn her love. He  
accepted her way of thinking towards him, accepted her decisions, and thus earned her trust,  
when she wasn't even paying attention. His cocky attitude was like a warning, like *he* didn't  
even think he could be depended on. He broadcast that loud and clear. But he *was* there for  
her. He did comfort her, and help her out, and watch her back. But he left it entirely up to Max  
to notice.  
  
Max's thoughts were interrupted as she saw a familiar figure approach, from her office.  
  
"What are you doing up?" Max demanded.  
  
"Couldn't sleep," Biggs muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.  
  
Max sighed. "If you don't get some rest, you're gonna wind up staggering around in a daze like  
after you got hit with that tranq last week."  
  
Biggs's eyes snapped towards her. "Tranqs . . ."  
Max stared defiantly into his eyes. "Yeah, tranqs. Living dead guy. Biggs, we need you alert if-"   
Biggs turned and moved away from her, practically running towards Dix. "Hey! Where the hell  
do you think you're going?" Max called after him as she followed.  
  
"Dix, where's that dart we brought in two days ago?" Biggs demanded.  
  
"Uh, it's right-" Dix picked up the dart from the desk beside himself and Biggs snatched it from  
his hand. "Here," Dix finished.  
  
"What?" Max asked, wondering what the hell was up with him.  
  
Biggs smelled the dart, turned it over and over in his hands, studying it closely. "Different drug . .  
." he muttered, "but this is the same kind of dart those guys hit me with last week. Fuck, why  
didn't I notice?" He slammed the dart back down onto the desk in an effort to resist throwing it  
against the wall and smashing it to pieces.  
  
Max stood staring at the dart in shock and relief as Biggs rounded up a team. He was heading out  
again. They finally had a clue, no matter how small. Finally. Max felt a smile surging up from  
within herself. It was held down only by the self torturing scowl on Biggs face, and the ever-  
present fact that they hadn't found Alec *yet*.  
  
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Reviews would be appreciated.... compliments, criticism, helpful tips..... or if you didn't like it,  
then other assistance in making it better...... all in the name of happiness and improvement! 


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